He turned
and looked over his shoulder, showing a haggard face with a ten-days'
beard on it. He looked from one to the other in silence.

It was Colonel de Casimir.

CHAPTER XXII. THROUGH THE SHOALS.

I see my way, as birds their trackless way.

De Casimir had never seen Louis d'Arragon, and yet some dim resemblance
to his cousin must have introduced the new-comer to a conscience not
quite easy.

"You seek me, Monsieur," he asked, not having recognized Desiree, who
stood behind her companion, in her furs.

"I seek Colonel Darragon, and was told that we should find him in this
room."

"May I ask why you seek him in this rather unceremonious manner?" asked
De Casimir, with the ready insolence of his calling and his age.

"Because I am his cousin," replied Louis quietly, "and Madame is his
wife."

Desiree came forward, her face colourless. She caught her breath, but
made no attempt to speak.

De Casimir tried to lift himself on his elbows.

"Ah! madame," he said. "You see me in a sorry state. I have been very
ill." And he made a gesture with one hand, begging her to overlook his
unkempt appearance and the disorder of his room.

"Where is Charles?" asked Desiree curtly. She had suddenly realized how
intensely she had always disliked De Casimir, and distrusted him.

"Has he not returned to Dantzig?" was the ready answer. "He should have
been there a week ago. We parted at Vilna. He was exhausted--a mere
question of over-fatigue--and at his request I left him there to recover
and to pursue his way to Dantzig, where he knew you would be awaiting
him."

He paused and looked from one to the other with quick and furtive eyes.
He felt himself easily a match for them in quickness of perception, in
rapid thought, in glib speech. Both were dumb--he could not guess why.
But there was a steadiness in D'Arragon's eyes which rarely goes with
dulness of wit. This was a man who could be quick at will--a man to be
reckoned with.

"You are wondering why I travel under your cousin's name, Monsieur,"
said De Casimir, with a friendly smile.

"Yes," returned Louis, without returning the smile.

"It is simple enough," explained the sick man. "At Vilna we found all
discipline relaxed. There were no longer any regiments. There was no
longer staff. There was no longer an army. Every man did as he thought
best. Many, as you know, elected to await the Russians at Vilna, rather
than attempt to journey farther. Your